


Love is Prose, Sex is Poetry

by Pichitinha



Category: To All the Boys I've Loved Before (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, Marriage, Married Couple, Not Beta Read, Peter's POV, Smut, also they love each other thank you, but it's here so don't judge it too hard i guess, but more of the latter than the former, excessive use of he and she LMAO, honestly this is just... i don't know ok i got a flash for a sex scene and here we are enjoy, i haven't written a proper actual smut in like... maybe ever?, so idk if this is too much too little good bad whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27637447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pichitinha/pseuds/Pichitinha
Summary: Lara Jean had a bad day so off to the rescue Peter goes."What are we planning here, Covey?" As soon as he lies down next to her his hand immediately moves forward to find her waist. To his surprise, she blushes at his question. "Now, that's something that I haven't seen in years. What kinky stuff is going through that head of yours to get this nice red on your cheeks?"
Relationships: Peter Kavinsky/Lara Jean Song-Covey
Comments: 26
Kudos: 120





	Love is Prose, Sex is Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> ok hi hello. i don't know what to say here. i love smut and i love reading and i find no shaming in writing that, except when i'm the one doing. it's out of my comfort zone but it's something that i like so it's conflicting. i've written a few smuts through the course of my years as a fic-writer, but it's been ages since i've done so for a m/f, so, well. anyway this is just something that popped into my head and i had to write it and i'm totally biased and can't tell if it's good, if it's in character, anything. i hope you like it!
> 
> title of the fic is the direct translation of a lyric from a wonderful brazilian song called [amor e sexo](https://open.spotify.com/track/333v4s9EybUEFOY6ComIC2?si=y-L0p8HUStqaFg2eU-j8mA) by **rita lee** which literally means "love and sex"

Peter loves being a lawyer, he really does. He's always known he wanted to go into law and even though during school he changed his mind a lot on which kind of law he wanted to practice, he never wavered from the main thing. And he did it, he graduated, he got a good job, he enjoys what he does, he gets paid well. He is happy in his decision and knows that's the right path for him.

But that doesn't mean that from time to time, when he has a hard case that demands that he keeps reading and analysing things at every waking moment, he doesn't want to throw everything out of the window and quit to become a gardener or something.

He especially hates when he has to bring work into bed, because the bed is  _ sacred _ , it's a Peter and Lara Jean safe haven where all he does (or rather, should/wants to do) is love his wife in whatever capacity (physically, emotionally, psychologically, you name it), and having papers in hard-to-understand legal terms filled with other people's problems that more often than not dump his mood in there is something he tries to avoid at all costs.

Sometimes it's inevitable. Lara Jean doesn't mind, she knows he hates it and never does it unless extremely necessary, so she understands, but he still feels terrible.

And also she's  _ right there _ wearing pajamas or nightgowns that are either ridiculously cute or extremely sexy and all he can think about is having sex with her until she loses her voice and/or cuddling like there's no tomorrow. But he gets stuck with the stupid case he's working on.

Today is one of those days and his mood is even worse than usual because it's friday and he's had to do this every single day this week and his plans for saturday and sunday also involve the goddamn papers in his hands, which he's read so many times that the words are losing meaning and the letters may or may not be floating out of the page in a blur.

He loves his job but god he also fucking hates it sometimes.

It's nearing midnight when Lara Jean joins him in the bedroom wearing her biggest and fluffiest bathrobe which means she went for a bath today instead of a shower, and the missed opportunity of having been in the tub with her just makes his mood more sour. The sight, however, also gets him a bit worried, because he knows that she only takes baths (by herself) when she's had a bad day.

He really should focus on work, knows this case is gonna be a pain in the ass for a good few weeks still, but he's absolutely not gonna focus on it when he has a wife to rescue.

"You okay, Covey?"

She sighs and sits on the edge of the bed, getting her moisturizer from her bedside table. "Just one of those days. Client denied ordering the most expensive package and Andrew can't find the goddamn contract and I just-" she takes a deep breath and he can feel her frustration coming out of every pore as she angrily rubs the lotion on her legs. It's a testament to how annoyed she is that Peter can't even find it sexy because of how aggressive she's being. She leaves the sentence in the air and he's half convinced she got lost in her thoughts and forgot she was speaking.

"You want me to take a look?" he offers instantly, forgoing his current papers from his actual legitimate job to scoot a bit closer to her.

During college she went through a much tougher time than Peter in choosing her major, but after some events from the clubs she'd joined and several meetings with the school advisors, she took a leap of faith double majoring in business and food science. Now she owns a catering company and she really likes it, but just like Peter, there are bad days.

And so, whenever she faces any issues like that, he puts on his lawyer pants and his protective husband shirt and goes to the rescue. Nobody's gonna pull a fast one on his wife.

She manages a small but loving smile as she turns to him. "Maybe. I'm giving Andrew time to try and fix this because he was taking care of the account, but if he can't I'll let you know." He nods with a smile and extends his hand to try to pull her closer, but she gestures to the papers he still has on his lap. "That is, if you finish this case that I know is important and hard."

He groans and falls back in the pillows with a pout. "I am so tired of this, if I read the name Rachel one more time I think I'm gonna die." She laughs and gets up, placing the lotion back on her nightstand and walking over to the closet. "Besides, you're my number one priority, I'm never too busy for you, especially when you're in trouble."

"My hero!" she jokes as she rummages through her pajamas but he can hear the way her voice catches a little.

His eyebrows rise to the middle of his forehead. "Lara Jean? You sure that's all?"

She turns to him with a pair of panties in hand, her bottom lip under her teeth. "That really is all but I am just so mad about it all. He was so rude and it was a huge sale and I can't even think about what's gonna happen if he gets out of this. We already started on the food and it's all gonna go to waste. I'm just-" she kind of stomps her foot like a petulant child. "I'm just really frustrated and stressed."

She puts on her panties during the rant and then goes back to the pajama drawer. He's trying to find a solution. "What can I do? Do you want a massage?"

"Well, actually, I've been thinking-" Lara Jean starts but cuts herself off when she turns to him and sees all the papers scattered around him, her eyes becoming conflicted. She gulps and shakes her head, turning back to the closet. "Nevermind."

"What?" She says nothing so he gathers all the papers and places them messily on his own nightstand. "Lara Jean, what?"

"Nothing, you got work to do."

"Work can wait. You're my priority, you know that."

She chuckles and turns back to him with a fond expression. "Don't worry, Peter, it's silly."

He knits his eyebrows and gets up. "Oh, you know what, then? I'm gonna put these back in my bag and I'm gonna turn in for the day anyway, so you can't use this as an excuse."

She rolls her eyes and tries to bite back her smile as he leaves the bedroom to do just that. "You're ridiculous."

"Probably, but I'm still focusing on you tonight," he yells back.

It takes a few minutes because he absolutely needs to put these away in an organized manner otherwise he's sure he'll start crying tomorrow when he tries to decipher his notes, and when he comes back Lara Jean is already in bed, cocooned under the blankets looking like a goddamn angel.

She sighs as if in resignation but he can see her eyes are sparkling. "Well then. Come to bed."

He takes off the shirt he's wearing before lifting the comforter to lie down and cuddle with her. Usually when she's upset she likes to snuggle and sleep to calm down, so that's what he plans on doing. Except that when he does lift the duvet, his eyes catch what she's wearing.

That is definitely what he would classify as an  _ extremely sexy _ nightgown instead of a ridiculously cute one. He raises his eyebrow because she  _ knows _ what that particular piece of clothing does to him.

"What are we planning here, Covey?" As soon as he lies down next to her his hand immediately moves forward to find her waist. To his surprise, she blushes at his question. "Now, that's something that I haven't seen in years. What kinky stuff is going through that head of yours to get this nice red on your cheeks?"

She laughs and swats at him but she's still flushed. "Well, I've been thinking- I mean, I heard two girls talking the other day-" she stops, as if searching for the words, eyes not meeting his. "You said you were focusing on me tonight."

He nods. "Yeah. And you weren't even wearing this when I said that."

She laughs and moves closer, but still doesn't meet his eyes. "Well, like I said, I heard some clients talking the other day. And, you know, I googled it a bit, sorta. And I thought-" she stops and finally looks at him, points her finger at his face. "You are absolutely not allowed to laugh at what I'm about to say because you  _ will _ be banned to the couch if you do."

He laughs at the threat, hoping that it'll take it out of his system now. He has absolutely no idea where this is going, but by the looks of it he absolutely does not want to spend the night alone on the couch. "Okay, no laughing, promise."

She squints her eyes as if she doesn't really trust it, but she shifts and props herself on her elbow. He does the same, ridiculously curious about what she's gonna say. She holds his gaze and he's almost buzzing in anticipation.

"I have been made aware of a concept that isn't something that's really me or that I'd like to do all the time, but after how today was- well, I thought it could be interesting to try it out. You know, as a one time thing." He nods encouragingly because he knows how dramatic she can be and if he asks she'll probably just beat around the bush longer. "And that is the idea of being a  _ pillow princess _ ."

He can see why she thought he might laugh, but his actual reaction regardless of her couch threat is to choke on his own saliva as the words start processing in his brain and he pictures a thousand different scenarios in one split second of his wife just laying down completely at his mercy to satisfy her as he pleases.

Peter loves their sex life and he loves how eager to please him just as much as he does her Lara Jean is. She likes to be on top - which had been such a thrilling surprise when they first started having sex - and she likes taking charge just as much as he does, and he  _ loves _ that, he wouldn't change a thing about it.

But the thought of her just lying in their big bed, in that insanely hot nightgown, trusting him to do anything to her, knowing that he'll focus only on making her feel good in whatever way he can... It's pretty much the opposite of the point but he's semi hard already just thinking about it.

He gulps. "Oh. Uhm. Wow. I-" it's rare that he doesn't know what to say to her, but now it's one of those moments. Should he already be this aroused when he hasn't even properly touched her yet?

Unfortunately his lack of eloquence leads Lara Jean to completely misread his reaction and she flushes again, even harder. "Or not. I'm sorry, this is selfish, isn't it? Forget I said any-"

Peter shuts her up with his lips, his hand reaching her face and holding her still as he kisses her with as much passion as he can, hoping she'll understand that he is absolutely on board with this.

"Covey, my brain just short circuited at how hot that is."

She bites down a smile and keeps their faces close. "Yeah?"

"Uh, yeah," he leads her hand to his hard-on and she lets her smile come out at that, slyly. "How can you still surprise me like this after so many years?"

She shrugs. "You make me feel confident."

And it's just so Lara Jean to turn him on like he's a cat in heat and then immediately after say something that makes his heart grow five times its normal size. He tackles her and pins her to the bed leaving several sloppy kisses all over her face. She's giggling all through it.

"Please never get tired of me."

She's still laughing as she pulls him away and kisses him softly on the mouth. "I don't intend to."

He's still smiling and so is she and she looks like an actual goddess underneath him - soft face, silky hair scattered around her head, the see-through nightgown clinging to her body with a low cut on her cleavage. The delicious scent combination of her coconut shampoo, cotton soap and wildflowers moisturizer lure him in like in those cartoons where you can see the smell like it's smoke leading you to where the feast is.

And, yeah, that's a feast alright.

He pulls away slightly, hovering above her frame, and he loves how her eyes travel the expense of his chest. It's something they have in common, how they both love their size difference, how she looks so small and dainty underneath him and how he (she tells him) looks so big and strong above her. It probably shouldn't make him feel as good as it does when she says that, but it's like some primal instinct awakes at that.

He moves even further away and ignores her pout to run his eyes through every inch of her body. When he's back at her face he sees her eyes shift - probably a reflection of his.

He's definitely in the proper mood and she is too.

Now, Peter has never really done this specifically, but he's quite experienced in making Lara Jean feel good and giving her exactly what she likes, and he prides himself in being a guy who loves satisfying his partner, so this is right up his alley.

"You trust me?" he asks even though he knows the answer.

She nods. "Duh."

His chuckle gets lost into the skin of her wrist where he starts his kissing, very slow and tentative, clearly not what she's expecting. She raises her eyebrows and he smiles against her skin again. "You said you trust me. I got this."

Propping himself on his left elbow so he can continue to kiss her right forearm, he takes his other hand and moves it down to her knee. He tries to touch her as featherlight as possible, almost enough to be ticklish, and as slow as he can take it he runs his fingertips up her thighs, bringing it back down on occasion to keep her on her toes.

He has never been so gentle and her breathing is already picking up.

He moves down letting her arm go and uses both hands on his ministrations down her legs. Her skin is smooth and it smells of her lotion and his hands glide like he's touching silk. He roams every possible inch of her legs with his palms, still as light and soft as he can manage, just marvelling at how lucky he is and hoping that this will be a good kickstart.

When he looks up her eyes are closed in contentment and she's taking small deep breaths depending on where he touches.

He catches her legs to open them and make space for him to kneel in between them, and she helps him immediately, eyes still closed. He moves his hands up the side of her legs until his fingertips touch the hem of her panties on her waist and he toys with it, still barely in contact. She squirms the tiniest bit but lets him continue.

He wants her to react a bit more, so he moves both hands down and behind as far as he can so his fingers can grasp her ass and he squeezes both cheeks. She gasps at the action and opens her eyes in surprise. When his eyes find hers he leaves his left hand still squeezing the butt that he loves so much, but takes the right one to his mouth where he sucks on his middle finger. She inhales sharply at that, and when he runs his wet finger up her thigh he can see her thin leg hairs bristle as she exhales just as sharply.

He has barely started and he's already unbearably uncomfortable inside his underwear.

The thought makes his eyes drop down to her panties. It's visible that she's wet, but he wants to know  _ how wet _ . Going back to holding her thighs and now squeezing them, keeping them apart, he drops his head to her center and pushes his tongue in, ignoring the fact that there's fabric in between them.

The material soaks through as it deepens in her, but it takes him a second to notice that because as soon as his tongue is touching her, Lara Jean has her hand gripping on his hair and she murmurs his name in what he can only describe as a sex voice.

Going down on her is one of his favorite activities and she's well aware of that, and obviously that's a mandatory stop in today's itinerary, but not yet.

"Just wanted to see how turned on you were, babe, I think we can do better."

She whines and tugs at his hair but he still pulls away, giving in slightly by deciding to remove her panties altogether. He makes a show out of it, holds both sides of it and pulls it down slowly, nuzzling her skin alongside the garment as it comes out.

He discards it on the floor half heartedly and goes back up, eyes now on the nightgown that he absolutely loves but wants to remove as soon as possible.

"You are so beautiful, how the fuck."

She manages to laugh but it comes out strained. He moves his hands underneath the material and watches them though it, the contrast of his big fingers on her small waist.

He moves them up to the side of her boobs and teases them, fingers almost touching her nipples but backing away just seconds before. They stiffen even harder and poke the nightgown out, and he licks his lips in anticipation, though he doesn't plan on giving it to her just yet.

"Peter, please," she begs when she sees his motion and it's very hard to deny her anything when she's asking like this, so he compromises and moves one hand to pinch her nipple. It's not what or how she wanted, but she moans a bit in relief.

He readjusts his hips uncomfortably on the mattress.

He toys with it for very little time and goes back to the path he had planned. He raises her nightgown up enough to expose her belly button, kisses it lightly before moving his mouth around her entire belly, soft kisses mixed with the occasional licking making her contract her muscles.

He wonders if there's more that she's contracting.

With his nose he pushes the material further up as he keeps kissing her skin, resting his lips on the valley of her breasts, and well aware that the movement let the edge of the fabric resting on her nipples where they rub them in the rhythm of his lips.

She squirms again and her hand moves down in between them, and before he can chastise her for touching herself when that's his job today, she grabs his dick through his underwear.

He moans loudly before centering himself and removing her hand, sitting up on his knees once again.

"You're not doing this whole skit correctly, you know."

She smiles sheepishly. "Sorry." She doesn't sound sorry at all.

He shakes his hand and offers her both of his hands. "Come here."

She takes them and sits up, and in a second he has her nightgown up her arms and then lying somewhere on their bedroom floor.

He flicks her other nipple for good measure before pushing her back into the pillows.

She's a vision, all naked and aroused underneath him, her eyes begging for more.

He aligns his face with hers and drops his weight on her, and as if it's automatic she circles his waist with her legs.

Peter kisses her lips and she reciprocates eagerly, her tongue slipping past his lips to draw him in. "What do you want, Lara Jean?" he murmurs into the kiss, his own head a little fuzzy.

She doesn't respond as his lips travel to her neck and he changes his soft kisses for strong ones in a split second, sucking into her skin and probably marking her up as if they're two horny teenagers. A dazed sound escapes her lips and his hands move to her waist to squeeze it.

He asks again, "Lara Jean, tell me what you want," but all she does is whimper at his ministrations, her hips buckling up against his, trying to find friction.

He wants that too, but not yet - and absolutely not before she asks for it.

Once he feels satisfied that her neck will be very colored tomorrow - something she will not be too happy about once the horniness goes away - he detaches from her and sits up. Her eyes open up in confusion at the abrupt change.

"If you won't tell me what you want I'm assuming we can stop." She shakes her head desperately and he bites back a laugh. "Then tell me."

"I want you to make me come," she whines, her right foot moving to caress his leg.

His abdomen is on fire. "How?"

She just shakes her head again. "Don't care, just do it-" she cuts herself off and doesn’t finish her sentence, frustrated, and tries to push him on top of her with her foot.

He holds still and to his pleasure she whines again.

“So eager,” he teases, bringing his fingers back in between her legs. “Relax, I know what I’m doing.”

She scoffs. “I know you do, so  _ do _ it.” And then she shimmies down, trying to bring his fingers further up, but he retreats his hands and sees her opening fluttering.

Ok, so maybe he can give her something. This is all about her anyway, and he has more in store than just getting her off once.

He continues teasing her legs and once she gives it up and closes her eyes again, he swiftly moves his hand up and parts her folds with the knuckle of his index finger. Her legs jerk a little and her eyes open wide, but she doesn’t say anything, almost as if worried he’ll stop if she does.

He smirks to himself - he might.

His touch is still way too soft to actually do anything and he knows that, even without the little sounds escaping her mouth. He’s not quite reaching her clit but he’s also not entering her, just navigating in between and heightening her senses instead of actually relieving them.

Once again he waits until she settles to make his next move, pressing his thumb on her clit as his middle finger makes its way inside of her. She contracts around his finger and gasps loudly, already so wet everywhere that his thumb fumbles a bit as he tries to anchor it.

" _ Peter _ ," she grumbles and takes a hold of his wrist, pushing it further asking for more, and he knows that what he's doing is not enough, but she's already so turned on that he thinks she'll climax anyway and he'll be damned if it's not a proper one, so he concedes and takes his index finger out of its current job to join in inside of her, curving both fingers once he's deep inside to find the right place, and once he does and presses on her clit at the same time, his name comes out of her mouth with a lot more excitement.

He lowers his head to her stomach to press heated kisses on her skin as his fingers continue a synchronized dance in her center, pointer and middle finger pushing in and out and curling to her g-spot while his thumb circles and occasionally glazes against her clit - which is a combination that had taken years to master the coordination for but he got it and it drives her completely wild.

He presses his lips and his tongue and his teeth to her belly button and the expanse of her belly and the sides of her waist, until he realizes she's panting unevenly, and so as a final strike he moves up to take one of her nipples in his teeth as he presses his fingers forcefully, and she intertwines her fingers in his hair, holding his head in place as she comes with a strangled shout.

He eases her through it before taking his fingers out and licking them, to what she closes her eyes again and moans slightly.

"You good, wife?" he asks against her collarbone and she laughs.

" _ Fantastic _ ."

"Good."

He lies on his side and uses his hand to bring her flush against him and to get her leg to circle his. They meet in the middle as he adjusts himself to get the tiniest bit of relief by fitting his still covered dick between her legs, and then he kisses her with fervor, as if he hasn't done so in weeks.

She kisses him back, mouth strong but limbs loose in post-orgasm leisure, and to keep her there he grabs the back of her head and draws tiny circles on her neck with his pinky finger.

It doesn't take long at all for her to start grinding against him again and he's so unbelievably hard that for a moment he forgets what they're doing and lets her take charge, but as good as this feels there's a spark in the back of his head reminding him that they're not done - he's not done yet.

Peter grips her hips and stills them, letting an anguished murmur himself, before he lays down on his back and pulls her on top of him.

She ends up perfectly lined against him once again - and he may or may not whimper - but then she gives an exaggerated and fake pout. "You want me to do the work?"

He laughs because he  _ knows _ that that's one of her favorite positions and she would not oppose to it, but she's right, today is different - and that hadn't been his plan anyway.

"Nah," he shakes his head and she cocks one eyebrow, curious. "Come here."

She starts leaning down but he pushes her up shaking his head again, her expression changing to confusion. "What?"

"Come  _ here _ ," he pulls on her hips so they're further up his stomach and continues tugging at it.

Her mouth forms a perfect  _ o _ shape when she realizes what he's getting at and she exhales deeply. "Oh god. Yes."

She fumbles all the way up with his help, until each of her knees are on either side of his face, and if he could choose a way to go it would probably be like this.

He circles her thighs and pulls them down. "Come on."

She bites her lip. "If at any point-"

He dismisses her. "I know, I know, breathing and whatnot. Come down and let me eat you out."

It looks like she wants to make completely sure that they're good to go, but apparently her arousal wins because she relents and sits on his face.

His tongue is inside her immediately and she's bracing against the wall - this is the one time that a bed frame would be helpful, she'd said once -, her legs trembling between his fingers with the effort to hold up while trying not to get lost in the sensations his tongue is creating.

He maneuvers under her, takes his tongue out to lap at her entire extension several times, special attention to her clit, and he knows that the higher the number of orgasms, the faster and more intense they are for her, so he doesn't think this will take long at all.

She's also louder the second time around, already dripping wet and with a lot less control, so as he continues coaxing her to the climax with his tongue and his lips, kissing her folds, she moves her hands to his hair and then back up the wall and then to his arms, unsure of where to hold,  _ how _ to hold herself.

As expected she's close very fast, and while he knows how to drag it out for her, he's way too turned on to prolong this much further - which might not be fair, but she's getting to finish three times today so he figures it evens out. And she sounds and  _ feels _ desperate to come, even if she did it already not long ago, and he's nothing if not a man who lives to please her.

He moves his hands to knead her breasts as he sucks on her clit and when she comes this time it's with a silent scream, her body shaking above him until he moves his hands to her waist and helps her move to the side where she collapses on her back in the bed.

Her breathing is so fast it's like she just ran a marathon and he's not that different, mouth dry but also wet with her juices.

The wet spot in his underwear is bearing on ridiculous and the chances that he'll last longer than a minute seem really slim as he listens to the sounds she's still making by his side, her head on the other end of the bed.

He props himself up on his elbows and tries to look at her face, a smug smirk on his lips. "How we doing, Covey?"

She moves her hand to his calf and holds it with force. "Boneless, we feel boneless."

He laughs and moves to join her on the opposite side, hissing when his dick rubs the mattress. She opens her big doe eyes and stares at him with a smile way too soft and innocent for their situation. It's extremely Lara Jean and he loves it.

He leans down to kiss her, tones down the aggressiveness that he feels and tries to ignore how painful his erection is in between them, keeping his hips away from her because if his dick touches her naked skin he can't be held responsible for the consequences.

She notices, obviously, and smirking into his lips she grazes her fingers on his lower stomach. "How you holding up, soldier?"

He bites her lip at her question. "Not easily, to be honest with you."

She laughs and it's infectious so he's laughing with her and they're kissing again. It's messy and laid-back, not at all matching the state he's in, but even so all he can think is that he hopes that the rest of his life will be like this.

They keep at that, kisses and small bites and light touches, until she starts getting closer and he knows this is her saying she's ready to go again.

_ Thank god _ . He doesn't part with her to finally remove his underwear, having it out of his legs in seconds.

He leads her body away and turns her to the window, facing the same direction as him, and spoons her back flush against his chest. She moves her head back, fitting it onto the joint of his shoulder, and raises her left leg behind her to put it above his, helping him guide himself inside of her, where she's already - still? - extremely wet.

He moans loudly into her neck and stills. "Fuck Covey, I'm not gonna last, I'm sorry."

She chuckles and intertwines her fingers with his, his arm still strongly pressed against her middle. Her wedding ring knocks into his and it shines on her pale skin. "Move, Peter."

And move he does, as deeply as he can but not as fast as he wants, to try to make this last as long as possible - he will be so disappointed if he finishes before getting her off one last time.

It's erratic and not at all precise as he'd usually try to get, but all his strength is going to  _ hold on, hold on, hold on _ .

He moves his hand back up to her breasts and hers is still on top of his, not letting go even as he starts pinching and squeezing them.

His moans are louder than hers, but she's still vocal and clearly enjoying it.

He really isn't gonna last much longer.

"Wait-" he stops and her displeasure sound makes him gulp. He pulls out, to which she makes an outraged noise, and he moves away the slightest bit so she can lie on her back. His fingers part from hers and find her entrance once again. She sighs deeply. "Tell me when you're really close, okay? Right at the edge."

She nods and her face scrunches in concentration, whimpering and holding onto to his wrist as he doesn't hold back.

She arches her back a little. "Okay, Peter-"

He wastes no time in rolling her back facing him now, and together they move her leg on top of his waist and he guides her down on him.

" _ Fuck _ -" he says and hears her saying at the same time. He finds her clit again and continues trusting in, now faster, and it's barely five pumps later that he's coming and she's right behind him, their foreheads touching but eyes closed, each other's names spilling out of their mouths.

He isn't sure how loud he is but he's not really worried about that, still spasming inside her, both out of breath and sweaty.

He pulls out and she dislodges her leg, but they continue pressed against each other. He holds her face and kisses her again. "I fucking love you."

She giggles breathlessly. "I love you, too."

They stay there, eyes closed and hands softly grazing each other's skin, their feet up on their pillows and against the wall. Peter is pretty sure they doze off for a few minutes and when he comes up again he nudges her to go to the bathroom before she ends up falling asleep.

When she comes back she puts on her nightgown again and he already has another pair of underpants. He lies down and she perches herself on his chest, a satisfied and sleepy sigh right before she presses her lips to his skin.

"Was that up to your expectations?" he can't help but ask, half joking.

She giggles once again, but it's almost like she's halfway asleep already. "Very much so. How would you feel about switching roles sometime?"

Had they not just have really intense sex that would awaken a lot in him. "Seriously, please never leave me," he ends up saying.

She laughs against his lips as they exchange one last goodnight kiss. "Not a chance."

And that's exactly why he avoids bringing paperwork to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> hello thank you for reading 'till the end! before anything i wanna reinforce the importance of practicing safe sex - in my imaginary future life of covinsky lj has an iud right up until they decide to try for a baby and they are committed and monogamous which is why there's no mentions of condoms or other contraceptive methods, be careful! now for the regular goodbye notes please do consider dropping me a comment and clicking on the kudos button if you enjoyed it because that means a lot to me and really helps me want to write more. as always i am [pichitinha](https://pichitinha.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and you can find all of my other covinsky fics by [clicking here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pichitinha/works?fandom_id=42699070).


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